as I rise-
detached- and upwards
toward the terminal sky
I wonder why gravity has abandoned me
or was it life?
either way, my mind writhes
with the puzzle
as always as everyone and some none
the key, to that doorway
above;
the terminal sky-
encircles our world
a womb, and beyond-
the obvious tomb but yet-
the apothecary of life eon
and all ingredients-
as I drift higher
each layer is thinner
like an ocean to a shoal-
no, not much distance now, no
I drift-
soon, into that darkness
that absence
only via the sail of a soul.